Page 61 of One Moment in Time
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ZARA
On the anniversary of her parent’s not-quite-legal wedding, Zara woke and, as with every morning that week, checked the bed next to her to see if her sister had made it home. Nope, no sign. Empty bed. Which would worry her, if she hadn’t left Millie chatting to a very attractive off-duty police officer in a bar after the Celine Dion concert the night before, and then got a text two hours later with a photo of the guy, links to his social media accounts, his address, telephone number and a message saying…
Going home with Chad. These are his details. If I disappear, I’m tied up in his basement. Love you!
If anyone was making the most of this trip, it was her sister. Although, her parents seemed to be enjoying it now too. Yesterday, they’d all managed a full drama-free day, which was giddy relief after the debacle of the day before. They’d woken up early, taken a helicopter trip over the Grand Canyon, followed by lunch and a gondola ride at the Venetian. In the afternoon, her mum had shocked them all by saying she and her dad were going for drinks with Aiden’s mum. Her parents had come back, both a little tipsy, just in time to go to the concert she’d bought tickets for weeks ago. Celine Dion had taken them through a two-hour emotional wringer that even had Millie filling up as she belted out ‘All By Myself’.
And Zara hadn’t thought about Aiden more than once… every fifteen minutes. He’d called her the night before last, late, but she hadn’t picked up. And then there was a text yesterday:
I’m sorry. Can we talk?
She’d ignored that too, and yep, she knew that was a slide right down the greasy pole of maturity.
Pushing herself up in bed, the first thing she did was check her Find My iPhone. Yep, there was Millie, at the address she’d given in the text. Excellent. She typed out a reply.
Get your arse up! Mum and Dad’s ceremony is in two hours. Don’t DARE miss the whole point of the bloody trip. PS Hope you had a great night and are not locked in the basement. Love you xxxx
A reply came straight back.
Amazing night. I’m in love. Okay, maybe lust. I blame Celine Dion. Will meet you at the venue. Send me the address.
She texted back the details, then, groaning, she pushed herself out of bed and stumbled through to the shower, aware that this was definitely not how she was expecting to be feeling this morning.
Before she left home, a whole other range of emotions had been on the to-do list for today. Excitement. Giddiness. Anticipation. Gratitude. Romance. And the sheer joy of watching her parents renew their vows, reunited with the old friends they had sadly lost touch with, the four of them elated to have found each other again.
The reality?
She’d unleashed a domino effect of events that had pushed her father to violence, her mother to tears, dragged their most devastating secrets out into the open and put her in a position where just picturing a certain guy’s face was making her hands sweat and her heart thud. And that guy wasn’t the one who was back in Scotland, brushing off her calls because they’d both become too damn complacent with their relationship.
Thankfully, there was still time to salvage some of this, to get back on track with the original plan and at least give her parents the joy of celebrating thirty years together with their daughters by their side, grateful for every year that their mum and dad had been together because they’d given their family brilliant lives.
She showered, slapped on a bit of mascara, poured herself into the pale mint dress that she’d bought for the occasion, putting the grand total of beautiful dresses that she owned at a resounding two. The other one was a navy floaty frock that was her fall-back for all weddings, christenings, Christmas parties and, with the addition of a black blazer, funerals. She really did need to up her style game and stop living in sweats and jeans and spending her whole life at work or on the couch. If the last few days had achieved anything, other than a volcanic eruption of everything she thought to be true in life, it was that there was a big world out here and she had to get out of her rut, expand her horizons and start living in it. She added that to the list of things she wanted to talk to Kev about when they finally managed to have a proper conversation.
She’d asked her mum and dad to be ready for noon, so when she knocked on their door, it was opened straight away by her dad, who made punctuality his life’s work.
All she’d told them was that they were going somewhere nice, and they’d both scrubbed up beautifully. There had been no need to get their dad a suit, because, they’d warned him he’d need something smart so naturally, he’d brought one of his own. Even if they hadn’t briefed him, Zara knew the suit would have made it here, because Colin Jones didn’t do casual unless it involved a garden or a golf course. Here he was, resplendent in a light beige linen jacket with matching trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt and blue tie. It was so smart, it almost drew the eye from the bandaged hand.
Her mum, meanwhile, was still in the hotel robe, but she had somehow managed to style her own hair in an elaborate up do that defied her usual time and talents. Her mum usually aimed for a ‘stick it back in a bun’ level of grooming.
‘Do you like my hair?’ she chirped. ‘Eileen did it for me. My make-up too.’
That was when the bathroom door opened and out came Eileen, drying her hands with a towel. ‘Och, that hairspray was making my hands so sticky.’ She stopped when she saw Zara. ‘Oh, hello. What do you think then? Doesn’t your mum look lovely?’
‘Yes, she does. She’s gorgeous.’ Heart racing and hands sweaty again. Oh, crap. This wasn’t in the original plan, the revised plan, the emergency plan or any other fricking plan she’d managed to come up with in the last twenty-four hours.
‘I just need to decide what to wear. Can you give me a hint as to where we’re going? I was thinking the pale blue dress I had on the other day. Matches your dad’s tie and I’ve got the handbag and shoes that look lovely with it. But I don’t want to go for that if we’re going back to the same place we were at last time. Although, I really hope it’s not there, because your father is probably barred, and we don’t want to cause a scene.’
While her mum flicked through her wardrobe, Zara caught Eileen’s eye and saw a knowing glance there. She knew where they were going. Of course she did. Aiden would have told his mum all about the original reason for the trip by now, and she’d be well aware that, unbeknownst to her mum and dad, they were on their way to renew their vows. Zara wondered if that was why Eileen had volunteered to do her mum’s make-up and hair, and she gave her a subtle nod and smile of gratitude. Whatever had happened in the past, Aiden’s mum seemed like she was trying her best to make up for it and Zara was pleased about that. She just wished it didn’t make her think about her son. Again. For the tenth time in the last hour. Arrrrgh.
‘Don’t worry, we’re definitely not going there. It’s somewhere way more special, Mum, and actually, I brought a dress I thought you might want to wear.’ She gestured to the garment bag that was folded over her arm. ‘We know the last few months have been tough with Gran gone, but we were thinking how much she would want to be a part of this… trip.’ Zara swallowed a gobstopper that appeared to have lodged in her throat. ‘And since we’re going somewhere pretty special, we thought you might want to have a piece of Gran here with us too, so we brought this.’
Her mum stared at the bag for a full three seconds. ‘Is that Gran’s cream dress? The one she loved more than life?’ she whispered.
‘It is.’ Zara held her breath, unable to gauge from her mum’s tone whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. It wasn’t like she’d got a single prediction right in the last week, so she felt it best to hedge her bets and wait for further developments – especially as her mum had now burst into tears.
‘Oh Zara, it’s perfect.’
